Seraph frowned, uncertain where Ryken was going with this. Addressing the Mawborn, flattering her, calling her a marvel? Pfft, please. Eliàna's reports of her strength were mere speculations until the big reveal, anyway. Maybe Ryken was just trying to speed things up as she'd asked, but did he have to sound so infuriatingly smitten while doing it? Seraph threw him side glances, crossing her arms defensively.
Oblivious, Ryken kept his suave grin, his hands raised in mock surrender, intentionally failing to play the role of mediator trying to unspool Broco's insanity. He gestured vaguely to the exit, "I find it dreadfully tedious to have to fight my way out of here. It simply isn't in my nature to engage in such common brawling, you see." Turning to Broco, he tutted. "Monger, Monger, Monger. Why drag this out? We both know how this is going to end: you behind bars, us walking away with the crystals, and your little runners-" he tipped his head toward Ratelsi and Timoth "get their freedom. Don't be stubborn, old man. I've got friends in very high places, and trust me, you really don't want an introduction."
Timoth fixed Ryken with a reproachful look, his jaw clenched tight against the urge to shout, "How the hell is that supposed to be a form of appeal?!?". Watching Ryken's miserable attempt at diplomacy, he wondered if the man was trying to hasten their deaths rather than save them.
But Broco was trapped in his own frantic world, pacing like a caged animal, hammering the butt of his gun against his bald scalp over and over, leaving an angry, mottled bruise. With his strongest Merc weakened and his options crumbling, panic had completely taken the wheel. He'd already discarded his suit jacket, unbuttoned his soaked shirt, and shoved his sleeves up, drenched in sweat. It took several seconds for Ryken's words to pierce his hysteria. Sniffling and mumbling incoherently, Broco dragged his bloodshot eyes from the clients to the capsule on the table. A twitching mess, he scrambled forward, scattering the other valuables to the floor, and grabbed the Venerite container. Peeling the bloodied bandage off his mangled hand, he used it to pick up a crystal and forced it into the chamber like a bullet. Runes of neon blue ignited around the weapon's barrel, glowing bright as the crystal fused into the steel. Broco turned the modified weapon over in his hands, intoxicated by its new, terrifying energy. Aiming it at the room, he drank in their sudden wariness: Ryken's calculating look, Seraph's contemplative silence, Timoth's wide eyes, Ratelsi's narrowed glare. The Monger burst into a shrill, hysterical laugh.
"Oh, so yer can feel fear," he barked out another ragged chuckle. "Fuck, I shoulda done tis sooner then!"
"Well, that was a foolish idea." Ryken sighed, shaking his head disdainfully. "Those crystals are pure, refined energy. A human as primitive as you cannot possibly understand what they're actually for."
"One more fucking sound outta yer stupid mouth, I swear. Yer not in charge here! I am! ME!!" Broco thrust the gun toward Ryken's face, beginning to spit out frantic ransom demands for those supposed 'friends in high places' in exchange for the clients' release.
Meanwhile, Ratelsi tuned out the noise, shifting her focus back to Timoth's wrist, noticing the sandy cuff bound there. She'd seen it when Vesir escorted them upstairs, though only now did its potential strike her. If Timoth used it to cast a smokescreen spell, it would buy them the briefest window of distraction. A few seconds was all it would take to turn the tide.
Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts… Ratelsi was thinking.
Behind her, Styx, though a little disoriented, had come out of his state of shock. His right arm was useless now with broken fingers bound tightly in splints and bandages, but Ratelsi knew better than to write him off. The bovine creature was ambidextrous and more than capable of being a pain in the ass one-handed if a brawl ensued. The real problem was Vesir. She had her target so thoroughly hemmed in that he couldn't cast a damn thing. Ratelsi needed to disrupt her focus, and fast.
While Broco and Ryken kept the room's attention occupied with their back-and-forth, Ratelsi brought a fist to her mouth and let out an exaggerated yawn. Naturally, Timoth heard the sound. He'd been watching her closely since she was struck, searching her face to see if she was okay. Ratelsi met his concerned gaze, glanced down at the sandy cuff around his wrist, then blew softly into her open palm, wiggling her fingers to mimic rising smoke. Timoth followed her pointed stare to the cuff, recognition widening his eyes as he figured it out. Ratelsi gave him an approving, reassuring smile. Dropping her hand down to conceal it against her thigh, she spread five fingers, using them to tick down the seconds. At one, he'd cast, and she'd handle the fallout.
Three. Two. One.
"Now, Timoth!" she yelled.
Sky-blue eyes flared with a blinding glow. "Fumus et harena, detona in nubem pulveris!"[1]
The incantation tore from Timoth's lips and the sandy cuff detonated in a deafening BANG! A violent shockwave of compressed air and blinding sand tore outward from his wrist, blowing everyone off their feet and scattering them like ragdolls into different corners, plunging the room into a suffocating twilight choked with grit.
Nobody had the time to react - except Ratelsi.
She moved on instinct. Snapping her wings wide, their vitreous sheen glowing green at the tips, Ratelsi yanked Timoth by the collar. She kicked the couch over just as the explosion slammed Vesir into the far wall, then pulled Timoth close and sealed them in a cocoon of obsidian glass. The tumbling couch smashed into the pixelated vixens, destroying its projector and cutting the power off.
The VVIP lounge was less of a room now and more of a contained dust storm, thick with stinging sand and acrid, eye-watering smoke, almost blotting out the halo orbs in a brownish haze. They could barely see a thing. Through the ringing in their ears, the impacts disrupted the others one after another.
Ryken and Seraph were hurled backwards through the room, crashing violently into the heavy oak coat rack near the entrance. The wooden helper splintered under the impact, collapsing over them in a mess of coats, brass hooks, and flying dust. The tremor sent shockwaves up the walls, dislodging several framed oil paintings above. They rained down in quick succession. A massive portrait of Broco hit Ryken on the chest. He groaned, shielding his face with a forearm, blinking through the grit, and pushed the laughable artwork off himself, mildly irritated.
"A warning would have been nice, Timoth!" he barked, voice muffled by the thick silt already coating his tongue.
Seraph fared worse, having landed on her back, and winced as a brass-framed landscape canvas cracked against her shoulder, leaving a streak of soot across her torn sleeve. Frustrated, turquoise eyes flashed with fury. "My silk," she breathed, chest heaving, as she shoved the canvas aside, sat up, and brushed furiously on the fabric, utterly disgusted by the smudge on her beautiful clothes. "Three hours of perfection… and that boy ruined it in a second. Oh, I'm gonna make him pay for every thread!"
Their comms crackled to life, static hissing through the hidden earpieces. "Ryken? Seraph? Come in!" Oberon's tense voice came through. "We just saw a smoke grenade go off; we lost visual on your positions for a minute there. Are you alright?"
Before either could answer, Saedi drawled over the mic, "Do you two babies need me to drop in and save your lives, or are you enjoying the dust bath?"
Ryken pushed himself up onto one knee, coughing, shaking sand out of his dark hair. He pressed two fingers to his ear. "As much as I know you live for the rescue, Saedi, not yet. The Mawborn is playing hide-and-seek in this fog, and I'd prefer we actually know where she is before you come in here to steal my thunder."
"Wow, you guys," Joji's electronic voice, controlled by Jeenah, chimed in, unimpressed. "Just look for an airshaft controller. Hit the override; it'll blast the vents open and suck out all the smoke."
Seraph stood up, looked into the thick cloud, and scowled. "Pretty easy words for someone not even in the field. How exactly am I supposed to locate a tiny box on a wall when I can't even see my own heels?"
Joji sighed, exasperated. "What do you think the drone fly's for? I've got full infrared. Look, the controller is right by the aquarium; you're barely ten feet away. Just listen to my voice, I'll guide you."
Rolling her glowing turquoise eyes, Seraph adjusted her dress with aristocratic dignity, slowing her breathing as golden light began refracting around her fingers."Fila serica, formam vestram in pugiones mutate!"[2] she incanted a spell. Thin threads of condensed mana, fine as silk, bled from her fingertips, rapidly condensing and solidifying into a pair of golden daggers. She twirled the hilts through her fingers, reversing her grip so the blades sat flush against her forearms. "Fine. I'll fix the weather in here," she said and went straight into the fog.
Watching her go, Ryken heard Saedi's sarcastic voice. "And you, Ryken? Need a guide to find her?"
"Eh, about that…" Ryken glanced down at the luminous footprints still burning faintly through the layer of dust on the marble floor from when Ratelsi entered the lounge. Glowing with an ethereal green, they wound a clear path away from where he stood straight toward the center of the room where dense tendrils of aura pulsed like a living thing in the dark, hypnotic in its essence, drawing him close to recognize kin. A confident smirk tugged at the corners of Ryken's mouth. "Appreciate the offer, but I won't be needing one," he said into the mic, standing up, dusting his shoulders and shaking his hair again. He licked his lips, purple eyes glowing brighter. "The lady's practically rolling out the red carpet for me to come to her."
Saedi let out an amused chuckle. "Are you saying she's intentionally letting you seek her out?"
Tilting his head toward the ceiling, Ryken took a moment to ponder. "Doesn't seem like it," he admitted, breaking into a soft laugh. "But I'll take it as one anyway. It's far more interesting."
"Sure, Mawborn. Just try not to lose your head."
"I'm hurt you think so little of my self-control, Sae," Ryken replied, already picking up pace as he followed the trail.
Meanwhile, Vesir and Styx, being so close to Timoth, bore the brunt of the kinetic blast and were thrown sideways. Styx slammed into one of the carved beams supporting the lofty ceiling. The massive timber groaned and cracked under the peculiar's weight. Beset by the flying dust, Styx pressed his face against the crook of his arm, wincing against the abrasive cloud. Beside him, Vesir crashed hard against the wall, the impact knocking the wind out of her. She slid to the floor with a ragged groan, clutching her ribs, but her attempt to catch her breath only filled her lungs with sand. "Khhh-k-k..." a hacking cough scraped out of her chest. Clawing at her neck, milky, sightless eyes watered from the burn as gritty sludge hit the back of her tongue.
"Ptuh! K-god, it's… ghrk… in my lungs…" Every gasp felt like swallowing broken glass. "Can't… breathe.. g-hk… air…"
Styx instantly threw his hulking body over Vesir, shielding her from the worst of the debris. "Oi, you okay?" he growled. She just shook her head, unable to speak. Worry flickered across his rugged features. Raising a hand to shield his eyes, he scanned the hazy room until he caught the silhouette of an overturned couch a few feet away. "Over there," he urged softly, pulling her along into its lee.
Mhode, thrown by the blast, flipped over the bioluminescent table before crashing hard onto the frigid marble floor. The dust crested over him in a thick wave, consuming the space around him as he instinctively pulled his sleeve over his mouth and nose, squinting through the burning haze.
Hitting the wall with a bone-rattling thud left Broco loosening his grip on his modified weapon, and it skittered blindly across the floor. Thoroughly disoriented with his ears ringing incessantly, terror took over as he shook his head against the fog, convinced a threat was closing in under the cover of the haze. Driven by panic, he lashed out frantically, swinging his fists into the veil. "Who's there? Show yerself!" he barked, squeezing his eyes shut.
And so, as the others scrambled for cover, here, enclosed within the shelter of obsidian wings, the world narrowed down to just the causes of their predicaments.
Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Timoth's frantic heartbeat echoed loudly in her pointed ears as he lay pressed against her on the cold marble. Burying his face in the curve of her neck, he squeezed his eyes shut, letting Ratelsi feel the tremor running through his entire body. She parted her lips to whisper his name, but his muffled voice cut through the quiet first, aching and soft against her skin: "I'm sorry."
"Hey… It's okay," Ratelsi murmured, stroking a hand through his hair, untangling the strands. "We don't need to-"
"I know you warned me! I know I made it seem like the Aures were more important than us!" He sighed into her hair, pulling her so flush against him that her hand was left hovering uselessly in the air. "But when Styx struck you… God, I couldn't stop blaming myself. If I hadn't pushed us into this, you wouldn't have been in danger."
Ratelsi let her arm fall, glancing at him in bewildered silence. I.. don't get it. Why are you acting like this? You know what I'm capable of. You know I wasn't in any real danger. Her hesitation sent a spike of panic through him, and Timoth pulled back, forcing her to meet his gaze - terrified sky-blue meeting startled malachite green. Ratelsi swallowed hard. She hated that look. It carried the same premonition that had made her uneasy back in the passageway.
"Let's just forget all of this and leave," Timoth urged, digging his fingers into her shoulders as panic gave way to a sudden, desperate resolve. "I don't care about the money anymore. We'll make Aures another way. Right? We can figure something else out… right?"
Ratelsi sighed in relief. Smiling, she rested her forehead against his. "Took you long enough. I've been waiting for you to say that," she whispered, stroking his cheekbones with her thumbs. "We've been doing this for so long, and you still wait until the last second to use your brain. Idiot."
A breathless laugh choked out of Timoth, the adrenaline dissolving into half-embarrassment. "God, I'm sorry," he rasped, ducking his head. "I just- I couldn't-"
Oh, Timoth…
Her hands slipped down from his cheeks to squeeze his arms, minding the strength behind her fingertips. He felt frail beneath her touch. He always did. She'd spent eight years learning how to handle him like so, painfully aware that she couldn't reciprocate simple things like the tightness of his hug in fear of crushing him. She'd always be too much for him. Even if he accepted her, even if he loved her just as she was. Ratelsi shook her head, pulling her focus back to the immediate danger before her restraint could slip. "Grab the HoloSmarts," she said softly, "We're leaving."
Timoth held her gaze, nodding.
Nearby, Mhode had somehow figured out that, low to the floor, the dust was thin enough to breathe. So, he hugged the ground, crawling with his hand over his face to filter out the grit. Colliding with a piece of furniture, he hissed a curse under his breath and paused when the chink-chink of glass caught his attention. He peeked through his buttonhole just in time to see the obsidian structure parting open on one side. Timoth crawled free, glancing back into the dark interior. "I'll meet you at the entrance," he whispered. Then the dusty haze welcomed the boy as he vanished into it, rolling back to let him pass, and covering itself behind his footsteps.
Mhode let a nasty smirk spread across his dirt-streaked face. "Well, well," he gloated under his breath. "The big bad dragon's all by herself, hm?" He wasn't stupid. Challenging Ratelsi to a real fight was suicide. She'd really tear him apart this time. His cheek stung from the memory, making his body shudder from the ptsd. Yet the knowledge that she was alone in her fortress and wasn't seeing him coming bolstered his courage a little. Reaching into his coat, Mhode drew his pistol, keeping low as he stalked the rear of the cocoon. "All it takes is one bullet," he sneered, eyeing the massive, blade-like feathers overlapping each other. "I'll snap a plume, shove my barrel in and pull the trigger. The metal's gon' bounce around in there until it finds flesh." He grinned, levelling the gun at the dark glass. "Let's see if that pretty skull of yours can stop lead."
Just as Mhode's finger tightened on the trigger, a mechanical hum rattled the ceiling. The airshaft snapped wide open, and the industrial vents kicked to life with a roaring, heavy intake. The brown storm was swallowed whole, dragging the dirt, dust, and smoke up into the roof. As the air cleared, it stripped away every shred of cover, freezing everyone in their absurd, compromised positions: Ryken, crouched behind Mhode, caught on his path to Ratelsi. Styx and Vesir, crammed awkwardly beneath the overturned couch Ratelsi had kicked earlier. Broco had somehow found his way to ball up behind the bar, while Timoth froze mid-reach by the table, holding his and Ratelsi's HoloSmarts.
Slowly, every pair of eyes in the room drifted toward the control panel.
Seraph stood there, casually pulling the final glowing strand of her magic thread through a tear in her sleeve. Snapping the string with her teeth, she smoothed her clothes, planted a hand on her hip, and met their stunned stares. "Well," she said, looking around the room. "You're all welcome."
Broco, Timoth, and the rest of the Mercs stared in dead silence. The affluent 'clients' they thought were helpless had completely vanished. Seraph was practically an exposed armoury with daggers in hand, the high slit of her dress pulled back to reveal sidearms strapped to her thigh.
"Uh… what the-" Timoth trailed off, mouth agape.
Ryken burst out laughing, glancing over at Broco, whose wide, shocked eyes were quickly resolving into the petty satisfaction of having been right all along. "Guess the jig is up, Seraph," Ryken grinned. "Well, not entirely and a little sooner than planned, but still."
Seraph tossed her auburn hair over her shoulder, tilting her chin up as she surveyed the room with pure disdain. "Good. It was about time anyway. I was dying of boredom, and now my outfit is ruined. I need a shower."
Still chuckling, Ryken turned his back on the paralysed crowd and casually walked up to the pristine obsidian structure. He raised a knuckle, carefully tapped twice on the surface, and called out. "Ms Runner? I think it's safe to come out now."
Hearing a defeated sigh echoing from within the cocoon, Ryken straightened up as the wings peeled back. Ratelsi was comfortably seated on the ground, legs folded beneath her. She huffed, sweeping a critical eye over the not-so-clients anymore, then back to Ryken with an amused smirk. "I had you pegged for a dud from the start," she said, appraising Seraph's look, and scoffed, before pointing a taloned finger. "And her? Way too pretty. Nobody gets to be that pretty without a catch."
Seraph didn't even know how to react to that… compliment? She just raised a brow.
"Your insight is as charming as ever," Ryken replied, offering a hand to help her up. Ratelsi met the man's glowing eyes with her own equally radiant gaze. A sudden, intuitive spark of recognition flared between them, sending a shiver down her spine. It felt unsettling, yet deeply familiar. Amethyst eyes narrowed slightly. "You call me a dud, but I assure you, you're nowhere close to knowing who I am," Ryken continued smoothly. "Dare I say, we're still in our disguises."
Seraph scoffed, visibly offended by their underestimation. "One minor inconvenience changes nothing. Everything is still going according to plan." She turned a chilling gaze toward Ratelsi. "Besides, we haven't even confirmed our goal yet."
Ratelsi narrowed her eyes. She cocked her head, much like a raptor, before resting her cheek in her open palm. "Oh? The way you say that makes it sound like your goal is standing right here." Amusement remained in her tone, but the threat underneath it was palpable. Malachite eyes gleamed with malicious heat, their golden pupils thinning further.
Hearing that, Timoth snapped his head toward Seraph, his suspicion deepening into alarm. Wariness pooled in his bright blue eyes. "Who are you?"
Seraph offered a small, condescending smile. "Now, where's the fun in telling you that?"
Broco watched and listened, his chest heaving as his brain scrambled to put the pieces together. There was no EXON. There were no corporate representatives. But that realization only brought a deeper confusion. What then did they actually want? It couldn't be the Venerites, not when they were the ones who sent the Wing Quills in the first place. Broco's gaze darted from the so-called clients to Ratelsi, tracking the direction of their eyes and taking in the predatory way their focus lingered on her. Timoth, Vesir, and the others seemed to notice it too.
And just like that, the final puzzle clicked into place.
Her. They were here for that goddamn bitch. That fucking bird girl. It was her again. Always her! She's the reason these people had invaded his territory and ripped his lounge to shreds. An evil certainty settled in his chest, compelling him to make her pay.
Meanwhile, Ratelsi, completely ignoring Ryken's offered hand, rose to her feet on her own and pivoted toward Timoth. In the process of tucking her wings back, she smashed right through two halo-orb sconces mounted on the wall, lacking spatial awareness. Deep gouges were left in the stone as the sconces crashed to the ground in a spray of splinters, their light orbs fizzling out, and Ryken was forced to leap backwards to avoid being sliced open by the passing blades. She took her HoloSmart from Timoth and wore it, utterly unbothered by the demolished furniture in the room and apparently refusing to address the clients' reveal any further as well. Whatever reason they needed her for, they'd have to beat her into submission first.
Everyone seemed to wait with bated breath, uncertain. There was no predicting what would happen next.
Until a sudden gunshot shattered the brief respite.
Seething from his failed sneak attack, Mhode fired blindly at Ratelsi's throat. He didn't even get the satisfaction of making her look at him. A single, long feather blade detached from her wing, levitating into the bullet's path to intercept the shot just inches from her skin. Sparks flew as the bullet deflected off the glass, tearing sideways into the aquarium. The glass gave way with a loud burst, showering the room with shards, water, gravel and iridescent fish flopping on the wet ground.
"You fuckin' sicko," Timoth snarled, glaring daggers at Mhode. "Just couldn't help yourself, huh?"
"Not for a bit," Mhode sneered, thumbing the hammer of his pistol. He spat on the floor and leveled his barrel at Ratelsi again.
This time, she actually bothered to look at him. And offered a smug smile. In a blur, a sudden whoosh of wind whipped the hair across Timoth's face, and Ratlesi was already at Mhode's side. Her fingers clamped around his throat, pinning his windpipe as she hoisted him off the ground with ease. Mhode's feet dangled uselessly above the floor, and she just stared, watching the thick veins across his temples pulse under his straining skin. A strangled gasp choked out of him as he clawed helplessly at her arm, eyes bulging and wild with sudden terror. The smugness he'd glimpsed from her just a second ago was gone. This... this being was tearing his soul apart, feeding off his fear with a cold, unblinking glare, her eyes burning with an unearthly glow.
"W-what... are... y-you?" Mhode managed to wheeze out through a ruined breath.
A flicker of annoyance crossed Ratelsi's face, she was deeply irritated by his pathetic choking. "You're really starting to get on my nerves," she drawled in a voice devoid of human warmth. "Isn't it about time I shut you up for good?"
"Wait-I-" Mhode choked out, his vision swimming. "Pleas-let me expl-!"
Slowly, deliberately, she sank her talons deep into the soft flesh of his neck. Mhode's eyes rolled back; thick blood gurgled in the back of his throat. Effortlessly, as if pulling a string, she ripped his esophagus clean out and let his corpse hit the floor with a heavy, wet thud.
Seraph winced, stepping back as a dark slick of blood crept toward her heels. "Disgusting."
Ratelsi inspected the jagged length of bone and tissue in her hand, eyeing it with mild distaste before tossing it back onto the lifeless body. "Even killing you felt like a waste of time." Grabbing the corpse by one ankle, she began dragging it toward the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the sprawling expanse of Altown.
Timoth fought down a wave of nausea at the sight of Mhode's torn flesh flapping open with every tug, exposing and spilling wet, butchered innards to the floor. Twisting his head away, Timoth pressed a fist to his lips to keep his stomach down. "Thank Liyuen [3]I haven't eaten a damn thing today," he whispered to himself, though his eyes drifted back toward the jagged crimson smear trailing behind Ratelsi's steps.
Ryken politely stepped aside, giving her a shallow bow and gesturing toward the glass. Ratelsi gave him a once over as she passed, thinking, Hmph. Still in character, huh?. Ryken tapped his earpiece. "The Mawborn is handling matters herself now. Stand by."
"Roger," Oberon's voice crackled back over the comms.
"Man, she's ruthless. I'll give her that," Saedi chimed in with a whistle.
"He was scum anyway," Oberon replied flatly. "Guy got bailed out of jail a few months back on harassment charges. If you ask me, Talio [4]took his time."
"Still," Saedi grinned, "I just wanna see her go full on Mawborn on these little pests."
Underneath the couch, Styx let out a growl and made to spring up, but Vesir caught him by the arm, shaking her head. "Not worth it," she muttered softly. "He brought this on himself." Styx glared at her, but unable to argue with the brutal truth, he reluctantly settled back down.
The operatives, along with Timoth, watched the grisly display without a trace of remorse. Seraph looked repulsed, Ryken quietly anticipating, and Timoth, unsurprised by this, remained deep in thought. Broco, on the other hand, was completely out of his depth. Quivering where he stood, he could only stare in paralysed horror as his prized mercenary was dragged across the room like a sack of spoiled meat.
Reaching the edge of the room, Ratelsi dropped the leg. Without hesitation, she drew back a blood-soaked fist and drove it straight into the reinforced glass. The window shattered with a loud CRACK, sending a blizzard of sharp splinters cascading into the air. A few stray shards sliced into her cheek and stuck themselves in her knuckles, but she didn't so much as flinch. Gale-force wind burst into the room, whipping her hair wildly around her face, while her expression remained terrifyingly blank. As the rest of the room covered their ears and shielded their faces - and horrified screams erupted from the crowd gathered outside the club below - Ratelsi calmly pulled the glass splinters from her knuckles one by one. Then she grabbed Mhode's leg again and flung his body out into the open air, listening as the corpse plummeted and the sudden spike of chaos below responded with intensified screams.
"Is that.... a person?" a man yelled.
"Holy shit, he's dead!" another screamed.
"Wait-fuck, that's Mhode!"
A chorus of panicked murmur rippled through the street, and Ratelsi leaned into it, closing her eyes to bask in the commotion. But the gnawing premonition that had been nagging at her all night only seemed to mock her now. It whispered that everything was about to spin out of control. And deep down, she knew it wasn't going to end well.
"You!"
A familiar voice cut through the noise down below. Ratelsi's lips curled into a smirk, and she looked down.
[1] translates to "smoke and sand, detonate into a cloud of dust."
[2] Translates to "Silken threads, reshape your form into daggers."
[3] Liyuen is the Goddess of Arcana in Argona's pantheon
[4] Talio is the God of Karma in Argona's pantheon.